


Best Laid Plans

by geekmama



Series: Honorable Intentions [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6695956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmama/pseuds/geekmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time: The Morning After<br/>Place: The Bridal Suite</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The final part of the Honorable Intentions series. Thank you all for reading along!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> For the "White" prompt.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ****************************

It was the morning after, and Sherlock woke slowly to soft sounds: footsteps on thick carpet, heavy drapes sliding apart a few inches. He opened his eyes.

Molly was at the window of their bridal suite, looking out the narrow opening at what appeared to be a very gray, rainy day. She was wearing only the sheer white robe of the peignoir set her mother had given her, and the shadowed silhouette of her slender form was tantalizingly lovely. But she wasn’t smiling, and his heart gave a guilty twinge.

He roused himself and got out of bed.

She did smile, then, looking up as he came to her.

He set his hands at her waist. “Good morning, Mrs. Holmes. Are you very upset with me?”

Her brows twitched together. “Of course not! Why would I--Oh!” The smile returned.  “Because you fell asleep last night?”

“Mmmm. Failing in my duty to you right from the start. Though I must say, you were taking bloody forever in the shower.”

“I know. But I had to wash all that horrid stuff out of my hair. You wouldn’t have liked it at all.”

He stroked the now unadulterated auburn tresses with the backs of his fingers. “Probably not,” he agreed. “But why weren’t you smiling just now? Do you mind the rain?”

“No! It makes it a perfect day to… to lie abed.” Her voice trailed off at these last words.

Sherlock eyed her narrowly. “What is it? No, don’t tell me… er… _Aunt Flow’s in town_?”

She grinned at the silly euphemism, but the grin disappeared rather quickly. She cleared her throat and stammered, “J-just the opposite, in fact.” And suddenly she was blushing furiously, her gaze dropping to a point just above his heart. She placed her hand against his chest, stroking lightly. “Do you remember last month? When I… um...”

Oh.

_Oh!_

“When you couldn’t get enough of me?” He leered a bit. He remembered most vividly, in fact. “I thought that’s what you wanted. What _we_ wanted. Why you’ve been off the pill for months.” He raised her chin with one insistent finger, bent and kissed her lips, then ran a trail of kisses up her cheek, smiling at her dramatically indrawn breath, and the way her hands caught at his arms.

She said, almost in a whisper. “I _dreamt_ of you this morning. One of _those_ dreams. I almost woke you but then I realized… all the symptoms are there.I know we’d planned to start trying…”

His hands roved over her, and she trembled and reached up, standing on tiptoe to put her arms about his neck. His lips moved toward her ear. “Are you afraid, sweetheart?”   

She pushed back to look up at him, distressed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just feel… it will be a _certainty_ , rather than only a _possibility_. Aren’t _you_ afraid?”

“Well… I have to say that’s rather far down the list of things I’m concerned about at the moment.”

And suddenly she chuckled. “What’s on this list, then?”

“First is the fact that we haven’t had sex in nearly two weeks--”

“To make our wedding night something _special!_ ” she protested.

“If by special you mean listening to me snoring..”

She rolled her eyes. “The morning _after_ the wedding night, then. What else?”

“Last month, since you mention it. And this time we won’t have to worry about running out of condoms.”

She blushed again, and he had to kiss her for a bit.

But back to business. He steadied her before him and slid the sheer robe off her shoulders to pool on the floor. “Then there are these disturbing symptoms of which you speak. Abdominal cramping?” He drew her close and placed his other hand warm against the skin of her lower abdomen.

She nodded, sadly. “Yes. I took something for that.”

“Good. Tender breasts, as well?” He moved his hand up to cup firm, rounded flesh, his thumb brushing the coral of a perfect nipple.  

“Oh, yes!” She sounded somewhat breathless, but not displeased.

He continued, seductively, “An alteration in basal temperature, with increased vaginal secretions…” and kissed her, holding her firmly as his hand slid down again, lower, his fingers brushing the damp curls, then slipping within so very easily.

She gasped, arching against him, hands clutching.

He murmured, “Gracious! You _are_ in a state!” Her expression lay somewhere on the border of agony and ecstasy as he continued to tease, but presently he noted an increasingly frantic edge to her reactions -- not to mention the strengthening imperative of his own.

_Enough._

He said in a lewd, yet pedantic drawl,“And then, of course, there is greatly enhanced sexual desire, a symptom that I think you’ll agree is best explored from a prone position?” And with that, he swept her up, grinning at her startled squeak, and carried her back to bed.

 

~.~


End file.
